


I Want It Bad

by xaestheticsx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Punk Niall, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2560604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaestheticsx/pseuds/xaestheticsx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles was always labeled as the obedient, well-behaved child. Graduated Secondary School with straight A’s, now halfway through his first year of Uni without so much as an inhale of weed or a drop of alcohol. He thinks it will stay the same, that is, until Niall Horan comes along. Pierced lip and blonde-dyed hair, ink-stained skin that looks tantalizing with his pale complexion. The cigarette smoke that embeds his jean jacket taunts Harry every time the smell reaches his nose, and he can’t help but crave the blue-eyed boy and the threat that comes with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s kind of pathetic, Harry thinks.

He stares – more or less gazes – from his dorm window at the university parking lot, which is currently being occupied by Niall and his mates. He watches as Niall takes another long, drawn-out drag from the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke filling his lungs before flitting past his lips. His head then throws back as he lets out a boisterous laugh – probably at a joke from one of his friends – and Harry practically _moans_ at the sight.

Yeah, it’s definitely pathetic.

This is what Harry does aside from his studies and book reading – staring at the gorgeous blond whose name is Niall Horan.

In most people’s eyes Niall is nothing but the kid you tell your children to stay away from, getting looks of disapproval when they see his piercings and tattoos, the way he drinks and smokes at the age of 19. But its what makes Harry drawn to him, this aching feeling of _want_ gnawing at him inside.

Harry shakes his head to rid his muddled mind, eyes flickering down just quick enough to bookmark the page he left on in his book before looking back to Niall. He watches as the blond kicks around a footie ball with two people Harry's familiar in seeing Niall with, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik – Niall's best mates. 

Niall boots the ball back and forth with his feet, promptly kicking it over to Louis in one rapid motion. Louis stops the ball with his right foot in ease, a smirk gracing his lips.

“Gotta be better than that, Horan! Your game is shit!” Louis winks at him and laughs when Niall flips him off in return, eyes following as he walks towards his car. 

“Fuck off, Lou," Niall mutters, peeling off his sweat-drenched tank top before tossing it aside. He stubs out his cigarette and fishes out another from his pack, lighting it as it dangles from the corner of his mouth. 

“Those are bad for you, Niall James Horan! Gonna end up dead because of them," Zayn says in a nasally, high-pitched voice, mocking one of their professors, Ms. Cook. 

Niall snorts and motions towards the university building. “It’d beat living in this shitty place.”

Both Zayn and Louis laugh, nodding in agreement at that. Niall yawns and leans back against his black car, stretching his arms up high in the sky. The sun bounces off his sweat-slick skin, making his toned biceps and tattooed torso glisten.

That’s one of the things that intrigue Harry, Niall’s tattoos. They beautifully cover his body, shaping to every curve of his muscle, the story of each hidden behind the ink that tints the skin. 

He wants to feel them, wants to trace his fingers over each one and memorize the sensation of them against his own skin. It makes his body go warm in embarrassment when he thinks back to the many of times he'd catch himself gaping at Niall because of it when he would pass by him.

That’s why dorm windows are a blessing in disguise. It’s the one way for Harry to stare at him without getting —

“Hey, Niall! Looks like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer,” Louis says with a singsong tone.

“Yeah, he’s a cutie, too. I’m a bit jealous,” Zayn mumbles with his cigarette captured between his lips.

Niall grabs a pint from the back of his car and brings the bottle to his mouth, tipping it back to take a swig.

“What the hell are you guys talking . . . ” He trails off as he looks up from his beer and catches Harry’s eyes.

Harry freezes, body tensing up, his brain screaming to move, but he just can’t. His face feels like it’s on fire, cheeks burning a bright red.

Niall’s head cocks to the side and a wide grin spreads across his face. His teeth play with the piercing in his tongue — a piercing Harry didn’t know existed until now — and it glints against the light from the sun that’s beating down against his bare, freckled shoulders. His eyes look an unnatural icy blue, their brightness multiplying from the eyeliner coating the skin around them.

It’s all too much, just _too much_ , but Harry can’t look away. It feels like he can’t breath, like he’s suffocating.

It’s the same for Niall, but thankfully, he has a better ability of hiding it.

He has never really looked at a lad and had the word _beautiful_ come to mind, but that's what happens when he looks at the boy in that window. He has unruly, brunet curls and the liveliest green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. His eyes dart to the pair of pretty pink lips he has, enticing enough to bring upon the urge of wanting to kiss them.

He looks so innocent, so pure and sweet. He wants to wreck him; wants to use his body as a canvas and mark it. 

If he only knew that's exactly what Harry wants, too, as the wide-eyed brunet finally ducks out of view. 

***

The next three days were total havoc for Niall. He couldn’t get the green-eyed boy out of his head; the frustration in his chest building up to a point that it was almost unbearable.

“Why are you obsessing over him?” Louis asks, sprawled lazily across Zayn's lap. 

“M'not obsessing," Niall snaps, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

“Niall, you’re obsessing,” Zayn murmurs as he takes a puff from the joint he just rolled.

“You never get hung up over a bloke like this,” Louis comments, making grabby hands towards Zayn until he lets up and hands him the blunt. 

“Yeah, I know. That’s what’s botherin’ me,” Niall groans impatiently.

He cards his fingers through his disheveled hair roughly, absentmindedly running his tongue over his lip piercing.

“Just take a hit and relax, yeah? You’ll feel better.”

Niall nods, though he’s sure a quick high won’t get rid of the thoughts haunting his mind. But, it’ll do for now, so he takes it from Zayn and takes a drag.

He sighs, content, and breathes out gently, smoke mixing with the air of Zayn’s dorm room. “Good shit,” Niall says, laughing.

Zayn has a lazy, proud grin, eyes red and glassy. 

“I really want some crisps," he mumbles with a pout, looking expectantly at Louis. 

Louis’ eyes light up, and he bounds towards the door. “I’ll go get some!”

Zayn chuckles and nods slowly, eyes grazing over Louis’ body with a hint of hunger in them. Niall grunts, suddenly remembering the sexual arousal that embodies Zayn when he’s high.

“Be back,” Louis calls over his shoulder, hips swaying unnecessarily with his walk.

Niall stands, not wanting to witness what happens when Louis returns. He heads towards the door, stumbling a bit on his way, but he gets there.

“Where ya goin’?” Zayn asks in a slur.

“Jus’ need some air.” 

That’s all Niall says before he is out the door. The wind suddenly hits his face, goosebumps quick to appear across his skin. He staggers to his car and rests against it for support, cursing when he bumps his bad knee against the hood. He takes a cigarette out – maybe he should really lay off of them – and he fumbles his lighter from his pocket.

A quiet voice suddenly sounds from beside of him, hardly a whisper above the sound of the wind, but it doesn’t startle Niall.

“That’s not healthy, you know."

Niall doesn't bother to turn towards the disembodied voice, keeps his ground and brings the cigarette to his lips again. 

“And you think that’s gonna stop me?”

“I . . . It was worth a try, I guess," the person mumbles. 

Their voice, it’s slow and soft. It makes Niall almost angry at how kind the person sounds despite just being snapped at. 

He keeps his eyes trained on the ground but glances over, seeing an ugly pair of heeled leather boots standing against the concrete. He can't help but to let his eyes trail up to see the person's face, his breath hitching when he does. 

It's the boy – the boy with the green eyes and pretty lips and wild curls and stupid hipster glasses and if Niall weren’t high, he wouldn’t have been stupid and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is originally posted under my wattpad, narry_oh_contrary, though I'm revising the chapters and posting them here. Hope you like it :) xx


	2. Chapter 2

Harry’s lips are soft, warm. He's ridiculously pliant as he kisses back, clumsily, mind gone blank as soon as Niall touched him. 

Niall's hand comes up to cup the younger lad’s face, thumb pressing tight underneath his jaw. Harry goes easy at that, let's Niall pull him flush against his chest and kiss him with more fever. He holds back a whimper when Niall bites at his lip, letting him slip his tongue into his mouth. They stay like that, Niall's other hand gripping the back of his neck as Harry let's him take lead. 

“Fuck," Niall breathes out, pulling almost completely away with hysterical laughter bubbling up in his throat. He can't see Harry very clearly, everything too blurry to focus on one thing.

Harry feels just as dizzy. His heart thumps hard in his chest, skin warm and prickling. It leaves him feeling more alive than he ever has before.

Niall makes a noise that draws Harry's attention to him, watching as Niall's own eyes flicker down to where Harry's puffy, sore lips burn red. Harry feels so vulnerable and open, hot under his intense stare. 

“What’s your name?” Niall asks, hand sliding up and gripping at his soft hair. 

“Harry,” he manages out, fingers grabbing at Niall's tattooed biceps to keep himself steady. 

“Harry,” Niall repeats slowly, mocking Harry's drawl with a smirk that makes Harry not even care. “I like it, _Harry_.”

An unexpected chill runs down his spine as Niall says it. Niall steps forward so he's close again, and for some reason he feels taller than Harry, bigger. He brushes the fringe away from the brunet's face gently, suddenly handling Harry like he would break at the lightest touch. That’s when Harry notices his eyes are glossy and red.

"You're high," he mumbles, brows furrowed when Niall laughs loud, too loud for how quiet it is outside.

Harry lowers his gaze and kicks his heeled boot against the pavement, adding another scuff to the beaten brown color. He brings his fingertips to where his lips are numb, tracing where Niall's once were.

"Reckon it's obvious, innit?" Niall suddenly mutters, a bitter look overshadowing his scowl. It confuses Harry, but he only looks away, avoiding his gaze. 

"Yeah," Harry murmurs, hand falling limply to his side. "I . . . I think I should be going."

And before Niall could respond, Harry's shrugging away and disappearing towards the dorms. 

***

“You _kissed_ him? Just like that?”

“That's what I said, innit," he mutters, rolling his eyes in annoyance. (At himself, more so than anything else.) Niall paces back and forth in their dorm, fingers running through his disheveled hair.

“Don't know what I was thinking.” He lets himself fall next to Zayn in a boneless heap on his bed, rubbing hard at his eyes, “I wasn’t thinking at all, I guess."

"Could be worse though. At least you didn't wake up next to him in bed."

The thought of how that could have happened makes Niall shudder. He's had his one night stands that he doesn't remember, sure, but the thought of doing it that way to someone like Harry makes him sick for some reason.

"Where's Tommo?" He decides to ask, trying to keep his mind away from the thought.

Zayn shrugs, hands digging into his pocket and fishing for his lighter. He lights the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth when he finds it, taking a drag before offering it to Niall. 

“Probably asleep or somethin’.”

As if on cue, the door to their room flies open, and there stands Louis with his hands on his hips. 

“Please, never leave me alone with him again,” Louis says as he trudges past them. He shoots an accusing glare at Zayn.

“What’s wrong, babes? You weren’t complaining last night. The exact opposite, really, if I remember correctly,” Zayn says while fluttering his long eyelashes innocently.

“Shove off, you twat,” Louis growls, his cheeks flushed. Niall snickers and Zayn does too as Louis grabs his shirt from off the floor, nose scrunching up in disgust.

"For fuck's sake, can you not come on my shirt next time?"

***

“Ah, Mr. Horan. I’m glad you could actually make it to class today.”

Niall saunters in with sunglasses on and his bag slung over his shoulder carelessly. He's only ten minutes late, but Mr. Winston is a stickler for being on time. He puts on a faux smile and slumps into a seat in the back next to Zayn. 

“As I was saying . . .” 

Niall draws lazily on the paper he's meant to take notes on, tuning out his professor's monotone voice. He'll just get them from Zayn after class like he always does. 

“Mr. Styles, what a pleasure to see you!”

Niall looks up from his paper and glances around, curious as to whom “Mr. Styles” is. He sees a slim body slipping into the classroom with a handful of books, shuffling up to Mr. Winston's desk. He stumbles a bit, a sheepish smile playing on his lips in embarrassment.

Harry. 

“You're the student who's schedule got changed, yes?”

He brushes his hair back out of his face and nods, eyes skirting around the room before looking back to the professor.

"Please, take a seat where you would like. I'll excuse you from this lesson's assignment and I'll arrange something for you soon."

Harry nods again and smiles brightly, turning to walk to one of the seats nearest to the front. Niall can't help but to groan at how obedient and polite he is, head filling with dirty thoughts.

"Might wanna wipe your chin, got a bit of drool going," Zayn whispers to Niall, trying not to laugh too loud when he curses hotly under his breath and hits him.

***

"Mr. Horan? Could you come here, please?" 

His class was dismissed and Niall unfortunately was the last to leave. (He may or may not have fell asleep during the lecture.) He stops midway to leave, groaning impatiently. He knows he can't really say no, so he starts his way over to his desk, and it's when he sees Harry standing next to Mr. Winston, watching him with wide eyes. 

"I'd appreciate it if you would meet with Mr. Styles sometime today and let him copy your notes over today's lesson. He'll be completely lost when we move on, and I trust that you'll take responsibility with helping him, yes?" 

Niall's attention is still on Harry, only picking up a portion of what his professor was saying. He grins, winking at Harry just to make him blush. 

"I'd love to, Mr. Winston."

***

Niall and Harry decided on a time to meet up — around 1, since they both don't have any classes then. Niall waits by his car, thumb sliding over the screen of his phone to unlock it when he gets a text back from Zayn. 

_Please don't end up fucking on my bed. That's all I ask._

Niall snorts and pockets his phone when he sees Harry's approaching form. He's wearing a black pair of skinny jeans and a light purple sweater, looking absolutely innocent and sweet. 

“Hi, Niall,” he murmurs, standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back. He feels so utterly ridiculous being barely able to function properly just because of a boy. It was cute, though, Niall thinks. Makes him that much more endearing. 

"Hi," Niall finally replies, the glint in his eyes making Harry feel even more weak at the knees. He gives him a quick once-over, eyes stopping at his lips. 

He shakes his head with a short laugh, "God, it must be a sin to have lips as pretty as yours."


End file.
